


Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

by mikkimouse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8786539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/pseuds/mikkimouse
Summary: Based on a prompt from this list: “you’re in the hospital for the holidays so i came in while you were sleeping to decorate your room i love you merry christmas”





	

Stiles had fought werewolves. He'd fought a kanima. He'd handled Dread Doctors and wendigos and being possessed by a malicious fox demon and come out on the other side mostly okay. Physically, anyway. 

And _yet_ , it was fucking _appendicitis_ that knocked him on his ass and landed him in the hospital over Christmas. 

His life, seriously.

"I'm sorry," Melissa said, and it sounded like she meant it. "But we have to keep you two more days." 

"But Christmas is _tomorrow_ ," Stiles whined. "You can't make it happen a little earlier?" 

Melissa sighed and sat next to him, patting his arm. "I know. But you need a bit more time to heal. Your dad and I will be here first thing tomorrow morning, along with Scott and Kira." 

Stiles groaned. Truth be told, he still felt terrible and didn't much relish the thought of moving any further than the bathroom. But he'd hoped that having surgery the day before Christmas Eve meant that he'd be going home on Christmas, at least. 

No such luck, apparently. 

He batted his eyes at Melissa anyway. "Can I _please_ go home early?" 

She laughed and ruffled his head. "I'll see if I can get you some hot chocolate, okay?" 

Stiles flopped back against his pillow, and then regretted it immediately because somehow it pulled his very tender stomach area. "Ugh, _fine._ "

Melissa squeezed his arm. "More pain meds?" 

"Yes, please."

***

Stiles woke up—well, he wasn't sure when he woke up; he'd been sleeping pretty hardcore off and on since his surgery. But it was dark outside, which told him he'd probably been out for a few hours at least.

And his room glowed softly pink. 

He fought his way back to full wakefulness. No, his room wasn't just pink. It was pink and blue and green and white, from where someone had hung a garland wrapped with multicolored Christmas lights along the wall. There was a small, decorated tree in the corner with a few presents underneath it, and a stocking hung up on the television stand. 

And Derek Hale sprawled out on the chair across from him, chin tucked into his chest and sound asleep. 

Stiles blinked, and rubbed his eyes with the hand that didn't have an IV taped in it. No, it wasn't a hallucination or a drug-induced fantasy. Derek was still there, his head rising and falling with each breath he took. 

Stiles didn't make a sound—at least, he didn't think he made a sound—but suddenly Derek's head jerked up, his eyes flashing blue. 

Stiles lifted his hand in a wave. "Chill, it's just me. You know, the one who's supposed to be in this room." 

Derek put his hands on the chair's arms, like he was about to stand. 

"You don't have to leave," Stiles added quickly. "I just meant you shouldn't be _surprised_ to see me here, since it's my hospital room and I'm the one with the missing appendix." 

Derek rolled his eyes. "I'm not surprised to see you. I just...didn't mean to fall asleep." 

"You didn't mean to?" Stiles raised his eyebrows. "So, what, you meant to sneak in here, decorate my room for Christmas, and then sneak back out again with no one the wiser?" 

Derek huffed and glared at the Christmas tree. "You weren't supposed to wake up." 

"Oh my _God_." Stiles couldn't contain his surprise. Or his glee. "You _did_ , you sneaky creeperwolf! How did you even get anyone to let you in here? Visiting hours were over, like, ages ago."

If possible, Derek glared even _harder_ at the Christmas tree. "Melissa let me in. She said you weren't happy about being stuck here over the holiday." 

"Oh my God," Stiles said again, the pieces clicking into place. "So you decided to sneak in and bring Christmas to me?" 

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Derek grumbled. 

"And you stayed because...?" 

Now Derek turned from glaring at the Christmas tree to glaring at the end of Stiles's bed. "I don't like you being hurt," he muttered. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." 

Stiles stared at him, speechless for one of the few times in his life. He felt both impossibly full and so light he could levitate out of the bed at the same time. 

He held up his hands and winced at the way it pulled his stomach. "Get over here and give me a hug." 

Derek finally looked at him, perplexed. "What?" 

Stiles made grabby motions with his hands. "I can't get out of bed, so get your wolfy ass over here and give me a hug because you're a giant fucking sap and _you brought me Christmas_."

Derek shuffled over and bent halfway over the bed, and then paused. "I can't hug you. What if it pulls your stitches out?" 

" _Hug_ ," Stiles demanded. "And you aren't going to pull the damn stitches out." 

Derek huffed, but that time he bent all the way over so Stiles could get his arms around his neck. It wasn't the best hug—Derek was being delicate with him and Stiles really _couldn't_ hug him as hard as he wanted to—but Stiles got a chance to press his face into Derek's shoulder and just breathe him in.

He could always blame it on the drugs later, if he needed to.

"You made this shitty surgery worth every awful minute," Stiles said with every ounce of feeling he could muster.

Derek pulled back, his eyes glittering in the lights of the Christmas garland. "I...merry Christmas, Stiles." 

Stiles lay back on his bed again, suddenly tired. He yawned. "Merry Christmas, Derek."

Derek readjusted his bedsheets and straightened back up. "Get some rest." 

"Wait." Stiles caught his hand before he walked away. "Will you stay here? With me?" 

For a minute, he thought Derek would say no, but instead Derek squeezed his hand and nodded. "Of course." 

He went back to the chair he'd been sleeping in and pulled it around so it was next to Stiles's bed, and Stiles held out his hand until Derek took it once again. The lingering pain from his stomach vanished, and he watched the black lines disappear into Derek's arm. 

"You don't have to do that," Stiles said. 

Derek shrugged. "You'll sleep better."

That was true. The werewolf pain drain was better than any of the drugs the hospital had given him, and Stiles could already feel himself starting to drift back off. He threaded his fingers through Derek's and yawned again. "Thank you for the Christmas." 

"You're welcome," Derek said. "Go to sleep, Stiles." 

Stiles's last thought, before he fell back asleep, was that he could get used to falling asleep holding Derek's hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, friends! <3
> 
> [Tumblr](https://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mad_madam_m)!


End file.
